Sex Therapy//L.S

Three

As soon as Harry's eyes shot open, he could feel the bile in his throat. After attempting one door one the right of the room, which thankfully turned out to be a bathroom, Harry started puking into the toilet. His body was sweaty, his arms were shaking and his mind was dizzy. But he was used to it. It seemed like Harry always drank even though he knew the consequences of the morning after. On shaky legs, Harry stood up minutes later and flushed the toilet. He looked down to see he was only in a pair of panties, his eyes going wide as the foggy memories of the night before started to come to his mind.

Harry cursed himself as he took the neatly folded jeans on the dresser, tugging them on before putting on a shirt that wasn't his, or at least he couldn't remember if it was. It has a nice expensive(?) smell to it,one could describe it as musky.

Harry had found his way downstairs and into the kitchen, almost tripping when he saw Louis sitting on at the breakfast bar, eating cereal. His eyes lit up when he saw Harry.

"Glad to see you're awake. What time should 'ya be home by?" He said, taking a quick look up and down Harry's figure. Harry didn't notice the look up and down his body.

"As soon as you can, I guess." Truth be told, Harry didn't want to be there much longer. It wasn't because of Mr. Tomlinson, or at least not in a bad way. Harry just didn't want to be around him so much to the point where he just had to pounce on him.

"I suppose you could have something to eat and then I'll send you on your way, yeah?" Harry wished, prayed, that Louis would stop being so cheery, saying almost everything with a small smile on his face. That he would stop looking at Harry so innocently as if Harry was innocent.

Harry nodded and sat down a couple seats down from Louis, telling Louis what cereal he'd like. Louis has apologized for the food choice, saying his wife wasn't home at the moment and that she was the main cook of the house.

"Why isn't she home?" Harry wondered, trying to keep his voice calm, and not scoffing at the mention of his wife.

"Visiting the mum for the week. So how about you, you do any cooking?" Louis said, interested.

"I bake sometimes. I cook rarely though." Harry said, eating another spoonful of cheerios.

"That's wonderful! Do you have any more hobbies." Fucking middle aged men in club bathrooms, Harry thought. He shrugged his shoulders.

"You see, a lot of the times a great distraction from sex is an interesting hobby. You might not think it at first, but it's helped so many people that I know. Maybe you should try painting, or-"

"It'll take a lot more than a hobby to stop sucking 30 year old men off that I don't even know the names to, Mr. Tomlinson." Harry interrupted. Louis let out a heavy breath as he abruptly stood up, walking over to the sink to wash his bowl.

"Maybe I should take you home as soon as you're finished with your bowl Harry. And I think you can call me Louis now." Louis didn't sound frustrated, or angry, but more annoyed. He was annoyed because he's never had to help someone like Harry with their issues. Harry was so straight forward, and then closed off. It almost frustrated Louis. Almost frustrated him as much as the thought of Harry having sex with men twice his age.

The car ride was silent for the most part, only a small hum of music filling the car.

"Harry, I know this might sound ridiculous but I want to start having our sessions at my house. I saw how nervous you were last time. I want to help that." Louis said, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to look at Harry.

"I wasn't nervous."

"You looked like you were shivering the whole time, Harry. I get that it could be intimidating. I do this with some of my other patients as well." Harry sighed at his words, almost ashamed at how jittery he was the whole appointment.